


Family Heirloom

by SilverSynthesis



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Female Friendship, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Goodbyes, One Shot, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:14:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25238287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverSynthesis/pseuds/SilverSynthesis
Summary: It had been done. The Dark Ritual had underwent successfully. With nothing left to say and nothing left to be done, Morrigan set out to get some rest before the final battle in the heart of Denerim.Her peace is sadly disturbed as someone knocks on her door; With the intention to say one final goodbye.
Relationships: Alistair/Female Tabris (Dragon Age), Morrigan & Female Tabris (Dragon Age)
Kudos: 14





	Family Heirloom

**Author's Note:**

> It has been such a long while since I've actually written and finished something, so I apologize if it all sounds a bit rusty.  
> I'm just now getting back into the deep of things and a one-shot is a good place to start as any, no?  
> Anyway, this is a scenario I had imagined between Morrigan and my warden Tabris directly after the Dark Ritual.
> 
> Enjoy reading!

A sudden threefold knock at the door startled her out of her daze.  
Who’d be stupid enough to bother her at this late hour?

"…Morrigan?“

An all too familiar voice called out to her. Skeptical, the hedge mage closed the book she’d been reading and carefully cast it to her side. 

"Yes?“ she spat out, annoyed and tired. Mostly tired. 

What could the Grey Warden want from her now? The deed had been done. There was nothing left to discuss.  
No more questions she’d be willing to answer.  
No accusations of treachery she would want to hear, though that wasn’t something she was expecting anyway. Not of Levia Tabris, she knew her friend wasn’t that type of woman.

The wooden door creaked loudly in protest as said person shyly peeked through the doorframe.  
Though the dimmed light of Morrigans’s room washed out the saturation of her flaming colored hair, Levia’s wide, almost morose azure eyes glistened even brighter than usual, a testament to her heritage;  
Night vision, a trait evenly shared among all elvenkind. 

"May I come in? It won’t take long.“

She tilted her head in question, flowing orange locks mimicking their owner’s movement.  
Initially, Morrigan wanted to refuse, but looking more intently at the Grey Warden, her intuition argued otherwise.  
Levia looked like something was bothering her; Something that couldn’t wait until tomorrow.  
Expressing her defeat in a soundless sigh, Morrigan slowly gestured for the elven women to enter.

Hesitantly she stepped through the doorway and turned around to close it, this time without its creaky whines.  
Clasping her hands just in front of her stomach, Levia steadily approached the edge of the bed on which the raven haired shapeshifter was seated, book now long out of reach. 

"‘Tis late“, she lamented wistfully, "Why are you not resting yet?“

"Couldn’t sleep. The nightmares are unbearable right now.“

Levia sunk her head, as if she was hoping for the floor to give her an answer to a question she hadn’t even asked yet.  
The icy gaze under Morrigan’s vibrant golden eyes softened a little. Nightmares had been a common occurrence for her friend back in camp and no matter how hard the woman tried to mask her exhaustion the day after, it was always clearly visible in the darkened bags under her eyes.  
And with the archdemon now right at their doorstep, Morrigan couldn’t even begin to imagine how ear-piercing its cries must resound in the back of her skull. 

So the witch of the wilds looked on in understanding, as Levia slowly made a move to sit down next to her.  
Now that she was right beside her, Morrigan only now noticed that Levia was still partly in her armor; Silver gauntlets fastened tightly with leather straps.  
They aesthetically didn’t fit at all with the powder blue nightgown she had been wearing, which itself was a stark contrast to her tawny brown skin.  
Levia took notice, scratching her freckled round nose in anxiousness in spite of not really being able to satisfy any sort of itch with the hindrance that were her armored hands.

"Force of habit“, she half-laughed. "In case I need to pick up my sword in the middle of the night.“

Ah, that explained it.  
With the massive broadsword she swung in battle, Morrigan had always wondered how such a lithe frame could manage such a good grip on its hilt. The gauntlets provided good support in that.  
But as much as her friend’s habits were amusing, Morrigan’s face darkened once again in fear of what she was visiting her for – besides bad dreams. 

"I do hope you’re not here to pester me about… what transpired earlier this night.“

Thinking back… No. Best not to brood on it while the memory was still fresh.

"No. No more questions either.“

Levia shook her head while looking at the armored hands in her silk covered lap. In sadness?  
Morrigan couldn’t tell. Her friend was hard to read and even harder to decipher.  
What was she here for then? To say goodbye?  
Why not just spit it out then?  
Levia was usually forthright with her, something she admired about the fellow woman. No beating around the bush, getting straight to the point.  
But right now the ginger elf was like a leaf dancing in the wind, swaying back and forth in hopes of never hitting the ground.  
What could be so straining, so hard for her to say? 

Suddenly she turned her head at Morrigan, as if she’d just now started the conversation.

"I have something for you“, she smiled fondly.  
"Well, not exactly for YOU, but something for what is yours.  
Or will be yours, in time.“

Not so subtly casting a lightning-quick glance at the witch’s stomach, Morrigan’s eyes widened in surprise.  
She rushes to stop whatever funny little thought the Grey Warden had cooked up in the midst of this madness.

" 'Tis appreciated, but not needed. Not where I will be go-"

"Please listen.  
Please just listen, Morrigan.“

Levia interrupts her softly yet firmly.  
Wanting to heed her request, Morrigan closed her gaping mouth, evened her angled brows and listened.  
The Grey Warden looked the other way and tenderly took something out of her nightgown’s pocket (why did she even have those?) and sat the item steadfast on her lap.

….A stuffed toy.  
In the shape of a mabari, specifically. It looked to be made of sturdy material, yet was surely soft and squishy to the touch. It had seen its fair share of years in use, but made no signs of having to be thrown away any time soon.

"My mother sew this one for me, amongst other things. She didn’t like to sit still while pregnant.“  
A melancholy chuckled escaped Levia’s lips, the ghost of a pain long gone resurfacing.

"I loved it so much. So much that I was absolutely heartbroken when my father gave it to my little cousin after she had just arrived in the alienage.  
But Shianni looked so lost, so scared after having to move here all alone. At least my beloved mabari stayed in the same household.“

It sounded cute and childish, just the image of a young, small version of Levia crying and clawing at her father’s legs in protest at the loss of her beloved stuffed animal.  
Morrigan smiled slightly bemused at that, though a forlorn look replaced it soon thereafter. 

"….Why did you take it with you now?“

Had her friend actually somehow gotten wind of her and mother’s plan?  
…No, that was impossible. Why would she want to give it to her then? Or why hadn’t she kicked her out if that was the case?  
It must’ve been something else. Levia’s lost gaze confirmed that suspicion. 

"Because I…  
Because I had a feeling I wouldn’t survive what’s to come…  
I wanted something with me that reminded me of home. Something to remember in my last moments.“ 

Tilting her chin up at those words, she closed her eyes, an imaginary death scenario and her life flashing before her eyes in the span of two seconds.  
As much as Morrigan wanted to mock such sentimentality, the hopelessness in her friend’s tone stopped her from thinking that way.  
Where was she going with this? 

"… But then you came along.“  
She hold a hand over her heart in contemplation.

"Although you may have kept it from us from the very start, your plan has saved – will save Alistair’s and my life.  
To save us might not be your sole intention of having this child, but…“

She absentmindedly fiddled with the left ear of the stuffed mabari.

"Our lives are being spared through the creation of another. That is nothing to simply dismiss.  
Which is why I want to thank you – And give your future child what I will probably never find a use for, with the way things are.“

Morrigan was left speechless, not knowing how to respond to that.

"Levia…“, she began but trailed off immediately.

"It’s alright if you refuse. As you’ve said, you have your own path to tread.  
And taking something with you from somewhere you don’t plan on returning is foolish.  
But I want you and this child to know that although the circumstances were less than pleasant,  
I am thankful and glad nonetheless.  
You are – as you’ve said to me once- like a sister to me.  
Family.  
And I at least wanted to give you a proper goodbye before I loose the chance forever.“

A warm smile and kind eyes interlock with an uncertain, but touched look.  
Then, Morrigan slowly enveloped her friend into a hug. Albeit a light, awkward one, befitting for someone who hates being touched.

"I… Thank you. I gladly accept your gift, my friend", her voice wavering in gratitude and sorrow.

Levia tightened her grip at those words, pulling Morrigan closer in and feverishly taking in all of her best friend before presumably never meeting her again.  
She couldn’t help the small, helpless sob coming out of her hitching throat and buried her face in the crook between Morrigan’s shoulder and neck.  
They remained as such for a little while, with no one saying something to the other.  
This was it. Their final goodbye.

Morrigan broke the silence first.  
"…Now could you please let me go? ‘Tis mushy enough as it is.“  
Levia heartily giggled at that, suppressing underlying sobs.  
"Of course.“

14 Months later, somewhere hidden far away.... 

The shrieking cry immediately sent her jolting awake.  
Rushing to his side, the raven-haired mother scooped the tiny baby into her loving arms.  
Squishing one of his pudgy arms, she rocked her son back and forth and kissed his forehead in a swift motion. 

"Don’t cry, my sweet Kieran.“, she reassured, in a tone so soft and small she never could have imagined.

Trying to shush her screaming bundle of joy, she kept bouncing him carefully with one arm, while searching for something special just in grabbing vicinity with the other, never breaking eye contact with her son in the process.

"See, little one? It’s your favorite.“

She held up the toy in question and the baby’s cries slowly trailed off and were replaced with the cutest sound in the entire world: Him squealing in happiness and delight.  
Babbling with excitement, Kieran grabbed the toy from his mother’s hands and hugged the stuffed mabari tightly, all while gnawing at one of the dog’s ears.  
Morrigan’s heart melted each and every time she saw that sight.

Accepting this gift was something she always looked back fondly after seeing her marvelous son hang onto it so much.  
It always softened his cries (if he wasn’t hungry, that is) and made her remember the night on which she had received it from one of her first and only friends.

When her son was old enough to ask where she got that old thing from, she’d stop and softly say:  
"It’s a family heirloom.“

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think in the comments below!  
> I'm always all ears for critique and praise alike.


End file.
